Laura ignored the loud warning bells telling her that his bewilderment seemed genuine. She'd spent all afternoon and evening working herself into a frenzy about what she'd seen and convincing herself she was right about her conclusions. Now she was only irritated by his insistence on playing innocent.
"The key!" she snapped. "I saw you hand her your room key! I'm aware you have your faults, but to entice a young teenage girl to your room! Because that's all she is, Daniel—a teenager. Are you aware she's only seventeen? Or doesn't her age matter to you?"
Daniel's eyes narrowed dangerously, the blue slits piercing. "Is that what you think? That I would do something like that?"
"It's not hard to think it if I saw it," she insisted, her conviction already waning in the face of the pure, dark anger in his eyes.
He took a deep breath, as though he was trying hard to control his temper. "What you saw, Laura, was me handing Teresa a key I found on the ground in the car park. One of the guests must have dropped it when they went out for the day. I would have come back down to give it to you, but I was already late, and we hadn't exactly been getting along. Teresa happened to be passing." His voice was biting. "Had I realised you would be spying on me and dreaming up a bunch of wild allegations, I would have made the effort to hand it straight to you and saved myself a whole lot of grief."
Laura stood open-mouthed as Daniel's words sank in. She had no doubt he was genuine. No one could act the righteous fury coming from him in waves. She'd made a terrible mistake, and a fool of herself into the bargain. What was happening to her? At school, she needed to keep an open mind to all accusations and assumptions, yet somehow she seemed to have lost all sense of proportion with Daniel.
"So you didn't come here looking for Teresa tonight?"
"Would I bring alcohol to a tender teenager? Oh, sorry, I forgot. You obviously consider me capable of far worse than that."
For the first time, Laura registered the two glasses of wine he was holding. "Daniel, I'm sorry," she said with genuine apology. "I've been so tired lately. I've not been sleeping well and I'm not thinking straight. That's no excuse, of course. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. It's just that I know Teresa has a crush on you and when I saw you hand her the key . . ." Her voice trailed away, acutely embarrassed. "Teresa means a lot to me. She's sheltered here and naïve for her age. I'm sorry. Truly."
To her relief, Daniel's expression softened a fraction, and there was a long moment as he seemed to weigh up what he wanted to say. "I'm not happy that you could even think that of me," he finally said. "But you're tired. We're both tired." He closed his eyes briefly, as if to prove the point. "I can see how it might have seemed. And I guess trying to protect family is as good a motive as any." He gazed at her long and hard. "Just don't do it again," he ordered gruffly.
When Laura nodded, he held up the glasses he was still holding. "Would you like your wine now? You look as though you need it."
She frowned. "Where did you get those, anyway? You're not even supposed to be in here."
Daniel inclined his head to the back of the room where Maria stood, pretending not to watch them. "Senhora Silva managed to understand my Spanish." He raised a glass in Maria's direction, and she waved back and winked.
Laura sighed in exasperation. "You're both incorrigible! And I'm afraid you've both wasted your time. I'm sorry—no, mortified—about what I said to you, but it's been a long day, my feet are killing me, and I'm going to bed . . . to sleep," she added hurriedly, heading outside before he could stop her.
"Then I'll escort you to your door." He kept pace with her, the glasses still in his hand.
Acutely embarrassed about her appalling accusations, all Laura wanted was to be left alone so she could let the ground swallow her up in peace. When they reached her room, she rummaged in her bag for the key.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?"
She faced him. "Daniel, I'm well aware of how wrong I was, and again, I apologise, but I am tired," she said honestly. If he thought she would be fool enough to let him in her room . . .
"Then have a drink out here with me. It's the least you can do to make amends. You never know, it might relax you, help you sleep," he said, steering her to the bench under her window. When she resisted, he added, "I won't leave you in peace until you do."
"Oh, for crying out loud!" Far too tired to argue with him, she sank onto the bench and kicked the hateful sandals off into the dark. The quicker she got this over with, the better. Snatching her wine from his hand, she took a large gulp. "There, are you happy now?"
"You appear to be rather tense," Daniel commented mildly.
Laura glared at him in the subdued glow from the rooms. "I don't suppose it occurred to you that might have something to do with you being here?"
Daniel's hands moved to Laura's neck and started to massage the stiffness there.
"What do you think you're doing?" she grumbled, but it was half-hearted. His fingers were already working wonders on her tense muscles.
"If I'm to blame for the tense state you're in, the least I can do is try to alleviate it," he murmured, his breath warm on her neck as he spoke.
Laura opened her mouth to protest, to tell him the only way he could alleviate her stressed state was to go away, but she closed it again as his hands moved downward, slipping beneath the soft fabric of her neckline to knead her tired shoulders. His movements were skilful, finding the bunched muscles and massaging the knots away, and with a sigh, she gave in to the magic.
"Better?" he asked gently.
She nodded. "Much better. Thank you."
When Daniel stood, a confused knot of disappointment tightened in her stomach. Laura was no longer sure she wanted him to go. But instead of leaving as she expected, he held out his hand to tug her to her feet.
"Dance with me," he said, pulling her closer.
"What?"
"We have distant music, a little moonlight and, cheesy as it might sound, I want to dance with you," Daniel explained, as though to a child.
He pulled her tight to him, one arm around her waist and the other lightly caressing the nape of her neck as they swayed to the slow, rhythmic music drifting down on the breeze from the wedding party. Laura exulted in the soft feel of the cool grass under her tired, bare feet. Hypnotised by the music, hardly conscious of her actions, she wound her arms around his neck, her fingers resting in the thick, soft hair at his collar, then lowered her head onto his shoulder, allowing herself to drift as she moved in his arms. It was a long time since she'd allowed herself to feel this close to someone; such a long time since she'd been held this way. Half asleep, she murmured a sigh of contentment.
As they moved, Daniel deftly pulled out clips until her hair tumbled to her shoulders.
"That's more like it," he whispered, lifting thick waves of it and lightly kissing her neck. It was a heady sensation, his breath feathering across her sensitive skin. His lips moved slowly back up to hover inches from hers.
"Daniel . . ."
"Shhh," he whispered. "You didn't let me get going the last time. I can do better . . ."
And to prove it, he brought his lips to hers, soft and seeking, until Laura ached with a need that made her feel dizzy.
Breathless, she pulled away a little, her eyes wide and vulnerable in the dark. "I don't think this is such a good idea," she murmured.
"Is anything that might be considered remotely spontaneous ever a good idea to you?" he asked her as he placed light kisses on the racing pulse at her throat, causing it to throb faster. "Or do you always have to weigh up the pros and cons first?"
"I can't help it," she sighed. "That's just the way my brain works."
"Maybe it is, but your lips are telling me something quite different," he said softly, working his way slowly back up to her mouth to prove his point. "Your lips are telling me you could be wild and impractical if only your brain would allow it. Why not let that annoying head of yours have a rest for a change?"
He pulled
her close again, this time deepening the kiss, until Laura wasn't sure her legs would hold her up anymore. Finally, he moved back and held her at arm's length, studying her face.
"What's wrong?" she asked him, the cool breeze making her shiver now she was no longer in the warm circle of his arms.
He stroked his finger along her cheek. "The music finished a good few minutes ago."
Laura blushed. She hadn't even noticed. An orchestra was still playing in her head. Acutely embarrassed, she moved away, fumbled for her key, and opened her door, thinking only of escape. She certainly had no intention whatsoever of allowing Daniel into her room, but when she heard voices coming down the path and realised there would be no time for Daniel to reach his room before whoever it was reached them, she had no choice but to allow him to follow her in.
Daniel caught her in his arms, clearly planning to continue where they'd left off, and Laura began to panic. It wasn't that she didn't trust him to go if she asked him to, more that her own defences had disappeared somewhere into the night outside. She had to put a stop to this.
Laura pushed gently at his chest. "Daniel, I didn't let you in for that," she chided gently, taking in the disappointment in his eyes. "I only let you in because I heard voices and I . . ."
"What? You didn't want any witnesses? Are you so set against being seen in public with me?"
The hurt in his voice took her by surprise. She'd already hurt him once tonight, and once was enough.
"It's not that. Honestly. It's just that as a representative of the hotel, I can't be seen to be schmoozing with the guests."
She expected him to be cross with her, angry that she'd let him into her room under false pretences, so she was thoroughly startled when he let out a delighted laugh.
"Schmoozing? Did you just say schmoozing?"
Laura glared at him. "What's so funny about that?"
Daniel shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing at all. It's the last word I would have picked myself . . ." He was still chuckling and, finding it infectious, Laura began to join in.
A loud knock at her door jolted them both into silence.
"Who on earth can that be?" Laura whispered.
Daniel's mouth twitched. "Your neighbours wanting to know who you're schmoozing with, I expect."
She chewed her lip. "Whoever it is, it must be important for them to knock at this time of night!"
As if to confirm her words, the knock came again, louder still, then again, this time on her window as someone called her name. Worry crept across her face as she straightened her dress and headed for the door. Reaching for the handle, she shot him a pleading glance. With an understanding nod, he moved out of sight against the wall as she opened the door.
"Thank goodness you're here, Laura." There was panic in the woman's voice. "I'm so sorry to disturb you, but please could you come quickly?"
"What is it, Mrs. Hurst?"
"It's my husband. He's not well. I think he needs a doctor."
Laura backed into the room a little, scrabbling around on the floor, but her sandals were still out on the dark lawn somewhere. With a discreet movement, Daniel pushed a flat pair towards her with his foot. She pushed them on, grabbed a jacket, and shot him a grateful look before racing out of the room.
Chapter Thirteen
Daniel stood still for a moment, willing his heart to slow down, but it was still thumping hard in his chest. He wasn't sure he'd ever wanted a woman so much before. Everything about her was a spiky challenge—her practicality, her stubbornness, her defiance—and yet tonight, she'd presented him with a much worse challenge: her pliability as she'd simply melted into his arms, meeting his lips with the same urgency as his own, her arms twined around his neck, her body pressed so close he could feel every curve until he ached with sweet need.
Groaning with frustration, he pushed himself away from his corner. This whole evening had taken on a kind of surreal quality. He'd not taken her rejection of his dinner invitation well earlier that day, and yet he'd been drawn to the wedding later, like a moth to a flame. Since she was clearly against formal "dates," his plan had been to show her he could be casual and relaxed around her by snagging a couple of glasses of wine from Maria and hopefully sharing them with her while watching the wedding celebrations. But it wasn't easy to be relaxed around someone who accused you of trying to bed a teenager she loved like a sister. He'd been hurt by that, and his tired brain had urged him to walk away.
His gut instinct had begged him not to. Her apology was genuine, her expression mortified, and although it stung that she could even think something like that of him, he knew her enough to realise it stemmed from her sense of duty and care towards Paulo's sister—and that was an admirable quality. From the way she talked about them, it was clear she viewed the Silvas as a kind of adoptive family, and if there was one thing he understood and appreciated, it was duty to family. If he put himself in her shoes, maybe he would have jumped to the same conclusion. Although where she'd got the idea he was some kind of serial womaniser, he didn't know.
Daniel still had no idea why he'd asked her to dance outside on the grass to music not even intended for them, when he should have been sulking and licking his wounds, but he could only be glad he had.
Glancing outside to make sure no one could see him leave her room, he went out onto the lawn to hunt for her thin strappy sandals, placed them neatly inside, closed the door, and headed up the path.
The Hursts' door was closed, but he could see a light on in the reception building. When he reached it, Laura was just putting the phone down. She looked pale, her face pinched.
"How bad is he?" he asked.
"Seriously ill, I think, but he's conscious. His wife said he's not been feeling well for a couple of days and they thought it would pass, but he got worse this evening. She didn't dare wait until morning."
"Smart woman. Is someone on the way?"
"Yes—a doctor."
"Wouldn't it have been quicker to call for an ambulance?"
She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. The ambulance would have to come from town and might be out on call, but the doctor is a family friend of the Silvas and he only lives a few minutes away. I'm sure he'll call for one if necessary. Mr. Hurst's obviously ill, but it's not like he's having chest pains or anything. I would've called for one if it was something like that."
Accepting her judgement without further question, Daniel asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Yes, please. I need to get back to the Hursts. Mrs. Hurst should get dressed before the doctor arrives, but she's not thinking straight. Could you go and find Maria and tell her what's happening as best you can? She'll either be clearing away in the function room or back at the house. There's not much she can do now the doctor's on his way, but if she hears any commotion, she'll wonder what's going on."
"I don't think my Portuguese is up to it, but I'll draw pictures if I have to. And I'll bring the doctor down to you when he lands. See you in a minute."
Maria was in her kitchen. It didn't take long to make her understand there was something wrong—it seemed panic was an international language. He managed to get across the room number and she flew off in that direction while he waited in the car park for the doctor.
When Daniel and the doctor got to the Hursts' room, Mrs. Hurst was clearly upset, and Laura held her hand whilst trying to question her about her husband's symptoms.
"Mrs. Hurst, please try to stay calm and not worry too much," she was saying. "Look, the doctor's here now. I'll stay with you in case he doesn't speak much English, alright?"
The older woman nodded and sat down on the bed beside her husband, who gave her a wan smile in a brave attempt to reassure her. Maria stood anxiously by the window, where Daniel joined her. The room seemed crowded and claustrophobic, but Laura's calm control was admirable as she interpreted between patient and doctor. His English was good, but her Portuguese was better, and since time was of the essence, they settled for the latter.
&
nbsp; The initial flurry and panic of the situation faded, but even though the adrenalin racing around Daniel's system began to subside, his senses remained in turmoil. Only a short while ago she was in his arms, and there had been nothing in his head but the thought of her, the feel of her. He should be glad for the intrusion providing an escape he would have struggled to initiate from a complication he could ill afford, but he wasn't glad. The strong pull of it was frightening.
Laura glanced up at him, and he imagined he saw as much disappointment in her eyes as must show in his own. The thought that she might feel the same way was some small consolation at least. He reached out to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
The doctor decided Mr. Hurst wasn't in imminent danger, but was keen that he should be properly examined. "I think it's probably some sort of vicious virus, but I'd like him to go to hospital for a few tests as a precaution," he concluded. "There's no need for an ambulance. If I telephone ahead to the hospital, will someone be able to drive him there?"
It was clear to all of them that Mrs. Hurst was in no fit state to drive her husband.
"I'll need to go in case there are any language problems," Laura said, glancing across at Daniel.
"I'll drive," he stated matter-of-factly.
Without waiting for her response, he went to reverse his car down the pathway, which was only just wide enough to take it, and they bundled the Hursts carefully into the back. Laura kissed Maria good-night and promised to update her in the morning, then climbed into the passenger seat beside Daniel. He drove competently, following her directions.
When they arrived at the hospital, Laura said, "Thanks for driving. You go on back to the hotel. I'll get a taxi when I've finished here."
He shook his head and climbed out of the car, using his strength to help Mr. Hurst out and into the wheelchair a nurse brought for him. "No, I'm staying here with you."
They accompanied the Hursts as the doctors ran their tests, Laura helping out with interpreting where necessary while Daniel tried to remain unobtrusive, tactfully hanging back in nearby waiting rooms as they moved from one test to another. He hoped it was a comfort for Laura to know he was there, even with the closeness between them dissipating as the hours passed.
Holding Back Page 11
